“Are you crazy?” Adelaide said. “It’s a trap. You can’t possibly be serious about meeting Conrad alone. He told you it was a matter of national security? Surely you don’t believe that.”
It was nearing midnight. The phone had rung a short time ago. When Adelaide had answered, she was at first startled and then outraged to hear Conrad’s voice. He had pleaded with her to let him speak to Jake. She was about to hang up but Jake had taken the phone out of her hand.
Now she and Jake were in the middle of her kitchen, arguing. She was dressed in a robe and slippers. Jake had pulled on a pair of trousers.
“I’m starting to wonder if Massey is right,” he said. “This may be an issue of national security.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You said Gill and Ormsby were determined to make Daydream work as a truth serum and a hypnotic. A drug with those properties would be worth a lot to certain people in the government. Hell, it would be worth a lot to foreign governments, too.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you can trust Conrad.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t trust him.”
“He’s a desperate man. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to murder you.”
“Give me some credit,” Jake said. “I do realize he sees me as an obstacle in his path and that he would very much like to get me out of the way. But he does have information we need—it may be information that he isn’t even aware he possesses.”
Adelaide had been pacing the kitchen. She paused at the far end and whipped around to face Jake.
“You said the spy game was always about information,” she said. “That nothing else mattered. But you are no longer a secret agent.”
“Sometimes you need information in order to survive. I think this may be one of those times. I’ve got a feeling that whatever is going on at Rushbrook, it involves something much larger and potentially more dangerous than a scheme to market drugs to celebrities and gain control of your inheritance.”
“Excuse me?” Adelaide folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “You make it sound like I simply got conned out of my money. That’s not what happened. I was deceived, kidnapped, and used in a drug experiment. And to top things off, someone tried to murder me. I didn’t just get fleeced by a fast-talking con man, damn it.”
“That’s my point,” Jake said in his infuriatingly unruffled manner. “It’s clear that the drug, Daydream, is at the core of this situation—not your inheritance. I think that was just a bonus for Gill—something he could offer Massey to get him to cooperate with the scheme. I doubt that Massey knows much, if anything, about the drug and probably couldn’t care less.”
“He just saw an easy way to get his hands on my money.”
“Yes.”
Adelaide drummed her fingers on her forearms. “I agree that the drug is the key here. But it’s Conrad you’re planning to see tonight, and he’s dangerous because he’s desperate. I’m telling you, he will do anything to save Massey Shipping. It’s an obsession with him.”
“Trust me, I understand the nature of obsession,” Jake said. “It’s obvious Massey did a deal with Gill in order to get his hands on your inheritance. But he may know something about Gill’s plans for Daydream.”
She frowned. “If you’re right, it means Gill is manipulating him.”
“Massey went into the arrangement with his eyes open.”
“I know.”
“Huh.”
Adelaide eyed him. “What now?”
“You told me that Conrad Massey breezed into your life one day and tried to sweep you off your feet. But you never explained exactly how the two of you met.”
“Conrad and I met in an antiquarian bookstore. My mother collected old herbals. After her death I inherited her books. I wanted to continue the tradition.”
“Is Massey interested in antiquarian books?” Jake asked.
Adelaide unfolded her arms and raised one shoulder in a small shrug. “He told me that he collects old books related to the maritime industry. It wasn’t a complete lie. When we were dating, he showed me his library. He did have a lot of volumes on the subject. He mentioned that his grandfather had started the collection.”
“Do you really think it was a coincidence that he walked into that bookshop the same day you did?”
“In hindsight, I’d have to say probably not.”
Jake nodded. “Someone, most likely Gill, arranged for Massey to meet you in that bookshop. After the first encounter, it was up to Massey to deliver the goods.”
“Me.”
“You,” Jake agreed. “Why did you choose that particular afternoon to go to that particular antiquarian bookshop?”
Adelaide summoned up the memories of that fateful day. “I got a telephone call from the proprietor of the shop. He told me that he had just found an eighteenth-century herbal that he knew I might want for my collection.”
“You were set up.”
“Good grief. Do you really think the proprietor of the bookstore was in on the scheme? That’s ridiculous. Mr. Watkins did have the herbal. I bought it that day.”
“I doubt if the bookshop owner had even an inkling of what was going on,” Jake said. “I suspect that Gill made sure the herbal got into his hands and suggested that Watkins telephone you to arrange a time for you to come into the shop.”
Adelaide shivered. “You really do think like a professional spy.”
“I’ve had some practice.” Jake’s jaw tensed. “Any idea how Gill might have discovered that you were interested in old herbals?”
“It was no secret. I told you, Gill knew my parents rather well because he followed the results of their research. He would have been aware that my mother loved old herbals and he may have known that I shared her interest in them.”
“The next question is, how did Gill know that Massey would agree to become part of the conspiracy?”
Adelaide stopped abruptly.
“The Duchess,” she whispered. “She’s the patient who insisted that I did not belong at Rushbrook. She helped me escape.”
Jake went very still. “Tell me about her.”
Adelaide turned to face him. “I never found out her real name. Everyone called her the Duchess because she claimed to be descended from an exclusive San Francisco family. It was probably true. Rushbrook was in the business of locking up the mentally ill relatives of wealthy families. The Duchess was not dangerous, but it was obvious that she was delusional.”
“In what way?”
“She acted as if Rushbrook was her own private country house. The other patients were houseguests. Because she was considered harmless, she had the run of the place and the grounds. She never left her room unless she was wearing a hat and gloves. In the dining room her manners were impeccable.” Adelaide smiled. “I loved that she referred to the orderlies and the nurses as servants. In her mind Gill was the butler. Ormsby was a handyman.”
“That explains why everyone called her the Duchess.”
“She was crazy but harmless. For the most part she lived in her own world and she seemed happy. She didn’t cause any trouble so the staff humored her. For some reason she took a particular interest in me right from the start. I often met up with her in the gardens when the orderlies escorted me on my daily walks. She would invite me to have a cup of tea with her. The orderlies didn’t care. They were bored with their jobs. I looked forward to those invitations to tea more than you can possibly know. When I had tea with the Duchess, I felt almost normal for a while.”
“Tea with a crazy woman in the gardens of an insane asylum.” Jake shook his head. “Sounds like a scene out of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”
Adelaide smiled ruefully. “Yes, it does. But I considered the Duchess a friend. She, on the other hand, was convinced that I was a member of her family. A cousin. Once I tried to explain that we weren’t related but she got very upset so I never mentioned it again.”